


The Girl on the Bus

by Black__Swan



Category: Runaways (Comics), Runaways (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Karolina Dean & Nico Minoru - Freeform, Karolina Dean/Nico Minoru - Freeform, Minor Chase Stein/Gertrude Yorkes, My First AO3 Post, My First Fanfic, My First Work in This Fandom, Public Transportation, Smut, bisexual mancha, crazy smut once they get close sorry, deanoru - Freeform, nicolina, no powers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2019-12-31 22:11:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18322955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black__Swan/pseuds/Black__Swan
Summary: Two women, Nico Minoru and Karolina Dean, catch sight of one other by a chance encounter when their two buses pull up beside each other. Both of them feel a strong connection that they cannot explain, even though they're sure they've never met before. The next morning, they see each other again. And again the next day, until Nico and Karolina decide to meet up without the two windows between them. Only then, do they realize they know more about each other than they had originally thought, and that there are some external mysterious forces at play.I know it's long. I sort of meant for this to be a exercise to practice and improve my writing, and what better are there subjects to write about than Deanoru! So, there might be a couple plot holes here and there. I might edit this later, but for now, everything I post is almost 100% unedited.Thanks for coming along the journey <3 Please don't feel afraid to make suggestions, as I am constantly looking for ways to make my writing stronger :)





	1. Incident

 

 

       There was no better feeling than making someone suffocate on water.

       Nico’s victim struggled for air in the chair before her, coughing violently and trying to clear his throat passage. She could see some colour rising into his face, a first and an accomplishment for someone with such a dark olive-skinned tan. Rose turned into crimson, and eventually a light puce began to emerge on Victor’s forehead and cheeks as he hacked away. He thumped himself several times on the chest, attempting to dislodge any remaining liquid, and fixed Nico with a seething glare of pure hatred.

       “Stop. Please. I’m begging you!” VIctor pleaded, sagging against the now splattered wooden table for support. He wheezed pathetically, and Nico threw her head back and witch-cackled with wicked delight.

       “Not until I’m done with you,” said Nico, her brown eyes glittering with malice.

       Victor gave her a look of utter despair, and Nico smirked right back, her dark lipstick-clad lips drawing up at the corners. She slowly pushed the plastic cup of water across the table top towards Victor, the bottom dragging noisily on the wood grain, and tapped the table near the base of the cup with two black nail polished-fingers.

       “Drink up, Mancha.”

       Two dark brown eyebrows knitted together on Victor’s forehead.

       “Like I’m going to do that, so you can make me _spew it all out of my nose!!_ ” Victor exclaimed.

       Nico laced her pale fingers together in her lap, and sat back in her chair. She declined her chin, and batted her heavily mascaraed eyelashes innocently up at the Hispanic man.

       “Why would I do that?”

       “Because you’re an evil witch succubus, and you gain power from causing people pain so you can do more evil succubus things?”

       “Pretty sure succubi get their power from sexual energy, not pain.”

       “What if they’re a masochist?”

       “Like into B.D.S.M.?”

       “Is that why you have so many things made out of black leather and studs?”

       “Suck a dick, Vic,” growled Nico, flipping the boy the bird.

       “Stay chaste for a week, Neek,” replied Victor, creating a ring with his thumb and forefinger, and ramming it on top of Nico’s rude gesture, further increasing the obscenity.

       “Gah!” Nico yanked away her arm lightning fast, and wiped her hand furiously on her black ripped jeans like it had just become dirty. She scowled angrily at Victor, who bared his perfect white teeth and hissed.

       Nico sighed, and crossed her arms across her chest. “Fine. I’ll stop.”

       Victor narrowed his golden-green eyes suspiciously at Nico, gauging the trustworthiness of her statement.

       “I won’t do anything to make you laugh,” Nico reiterated, rolling her eyes.

       For a few seconds, Victor kept on staring skeptically at Nico. Then, he snatched the cup up and brought it to his mouth, taking a quick swig of water.

       “Naked monkey buns,” said Nico.

       Victor jerked forward, simultaneously inhaling a breath while swallowing a mouthful of water.

        If you’ve ever learned about the human body, you would know there is something called the epiglottis that keeps the food, and water in this case, from going down the air pipe. It can also keep the air from going down the food pipe, but air still goes down there in the food that we eat, which is of no concern as it will come out either end anyways.

       However, you cannot breathe food. _Maybe if you were Patrick in_ Spongebob, Nico entertained. If you tried, you would choke and die. So, to prevent this, your epiglottis flips back and forth to cover the openings of your two pipes according to which thing is coming through: air, or water. It cannot be both at the same time. Which is exactly what happened to Victor. His poor epiglottis couldn't handle the intense decision it was faced with, and instead flip-flopped panickedly back and forth between the two.

       The resulting effect of this most unfortunate predicament was a sound, that sounded roughly like someone coughing underwater but without the muffling, combined with an asphyxiated pig, a constipated drain, and a small burp mushed in between. Phonetically, it would come out to be roughly like “kgrlungtchth-eh”.

       While Victor Mancha drowned on dry land for the umpteenth time, Nico Minoru kicked her legs out as she laughed her head off at her best friend of nine years. They had met in seventh grade, when Victor had transferred into their middle school from San Francisco. Inseparable ever since the day they spotted their very male teacher and very male principal making out, both Nico and Victor were now in third year university at UCLA, yet still immature as they ever were.

       When the convulsions subsided, Victor sucked in a deep breath of fresh air.

       “You dirty liar,” he coughed, wiping his mouth.

       “Nuh-uh,” Nico leaned forward onto the table, her long black twin braids dangling dangerously close to the regurgitated water, and fixed Victor with a devilish grin. “I said I wouldn’t _do_ anything. I didn’t say I wouldn’t _say_ anything.”

       Victor slammed his fists on the table, causing their empty donut plates to rattle. “That still counts as doing something!”       

       “No it doesn’t!”

       “Yes it does!” Victor slammed his fists again.

       “No it doesn’t. Haven’t you heard the phrase? Saying is different than doing.”

       “By saying ‘naked monkey buns’ to me, knowing it would make me crack up, you were _doing_ something to make me laugh.” On ‘doing’, Victor slammed his fists especially hard on the table.

       “Geez Victor, stop fisting the table,” said Nico, “you already got in enough trouble when you dry-humped the kiddie chairs.”

       “I was stuck and you know it,” Victor replied, carefully opening his balled up hands and placing them down gently. “I should have known those tiny seats were never built to handle by deliciously thicc ass.”

       “And because you’re a pedophile, you tried it anyways,” Nico took a sip of her plain Earl Grey tea, taking comfort knowing that it wouldn’t make her breath stink, and teeth yellow like coffee would. Boy, was she glad Gert forced Nico to wean herself off coffee by chucking all the cans out the window of Nico’s apartment, declaring obsessive coffee drinkers were just socially acceptable drug addicts.

       As Nico was setting her mug down, “All The Small Things” by Blink-182 began to blare from her back pocket. Blink-182 was another of Gertrude Yorkes’ influences on Nico, and Nico had ended up liking the band almost as much as Gert did. Nico fished out her phone, and examined the screen.

       It was Nico’s alarm. Not the one she slapped the snooze button on several times, but the one telling her it was time for her to get her former-goth butt moving if she wanted to make it to her first class on time. The professor shut the doors to the lecture hall at exactly nine a.m. on the nose, and refused to reopen them. Nico had learned that the hard way.

       Nico held up her phone for Victor to see. “The third row from the back in Professor Blue Balls’ torture hub calls.”

       “ _Aye caramba,_ ” Victor shook his head. “I don’t get why you took the morning class, Nico. You are the furthest thing away from a morning person, practically a vampire; your skin is pasty, and it burns in the sunlight.”

       “I told you already, it was the only class left. Turns out everybody wants to become a psychologist.”

       Victor shrugged. “It’s your decision to get up at the buttcrack of dawn, not mine.”

       A shadow fell over Nico and Victor’s table, and both of them looked up to see a young man about their age towering over them. He had a close-shaved buzz cut, and a gold piercing ring in his left eyebrow. The man’s name tag read ‘Topher’, and it glinted in the artificial diner light as he bent over and grinned, exposing teeth even more perfect and shiny than Victor’s. Topher’s eyes were a beady black, like a feral animal, and the way his apron was unusually crisp and clean combined with his eerily smooth and hairless arms gave Nico complete creeper vibes.

       “Greetings,” said Topher, his voice like oil oozing off scrap parts in the junkyard. “May I get anything else for you to eat?”

       “No thanks, we’re fine,” Victor said politely, though there was a slight suggestion of hostility in his voice, almost indecipherable. Victor must have picked up something from this guy too.

       “And you, miss?” Topher’s gaze slid over to Nico, ignoring Victor. Immediately after they made eye contact, Nico felt a wave of ice wash over her skin, and she wasn’t quite able to conceal the shiver that raced down her spine. As Nico forced herself to keep looking, she could tell there was something definitely wrong with Topher. After a closer look, it appeared that he had holes, black holes, for his eyes, where he should have an iris and pupil, and they sucked Nico into their dark depths, not at all in a good way, trapping her to the spot.

       If she had torn her eyes away then, she would have missed it. But she didn’t. So fast she almost could have passed it for her imagination, she saw something flash red. It pulsed in the darkness like a lambent heart, a dormant beast. When Nico blinked, it vanished.

       “Um. I’m good,” said Nico, smiling tightly.

       Topher kept on gazing down at Nico, and for a second Nico was scared that the man was just going to continue staring forever into her soul, until the sun and moon collided and the strands of time intertwined into eternity. Nico’s grip around her mug grew stronger, the pads of her fingers turning a yellowy-white, but she didn’t dare look away. If she did, Nico felt that would be like showing Topher weakness, and from the way his teeth gleamed Nico half-expected the man to pounce on her.

       “Are you very sure?” Topher prodded, his lips barely moving as he spoke.

       Nico flashed her own set of almost straight teeth at Topher, the rest of her face remaining still.

       “Yup.”

       Was it possible for someone to not blink for so long? Come to think of it, Nico could not recall Topher blinking in the one minute he had been standing there.

       At last, Topher broke eye contact with Nico to glance at Victor, who also held a similar expression to Nico’s.

       “Well, be sure to let me know if you need anything. Absolutely anything,” Topher said, rubbing his hands together with a quirk of his eyebrows. He looked over at Nico, and gave her one last grin. “Especially you, my dark queen.”

       With that, Topher turned fluidly around, and glided away. Once he was out of earshot, Nico and Victor craned over the table to conspire.

       “What a creep,” said Nico.

       “What a hottie,” said Victor at the same time.

       Then, both of them together:

       “Wait, what?”

       “You didn’t get total sleazebag vibes from that dude?” asked Nico incredulously.

       “No! Didn’t you get total bang-stick vibes from him? Because I certainly did,” answered Victor, sticking his tongue out and biting it lewdly. “Though I would never touch him because he’s obviously into you.”

       Nico sat up ramrod straight. “What, no! Ew! Wait...really?”

       Victor smoothed his hair back and jutted his chin out at Nico with a lazy grin. “Let me know if you need anything, my dark queen. I’ll do _anything_ for you, my dark queen.”

       “Dark queen sounds like I’m black or something.”

       “I think he means your dark makeup. You’re more of an aged porcelain.”

       “What’s that supposed to mean?”

       “You’re slightly yellow, but your skin is still creamy smooth and flawless.”

       Nico snorted, and swatted Victor, glad she couldn’t blush.

       “Whatever, you racist prick. I’m going to be late to class now.” Nico scooted her chair back, and tossed a ten dollar bill onto the table. She and Victor had reached that stage of friendship where they didn’t bother to split the bill anymore. One of them would just toss money on the table, whoever noticed first. Nico didn’t keep track of who paid for what, and she was sure Victor didn’t either. At one point they had a half-hearted system where they would alternate between who paid, but that disintegrated into nothingness and disorder as it would inevitably with two irresponsible messy people in a close relationship.

       “Or, are you into Professor Sexually Repressed Mental Patient?” Victor mock-gasped.

       “Suck a dick, Vic,” said Nico as she slung her book bag over her shoulder.

       “Crusty nipple peaks, Neeks,” replied Victor.

       “You’re disgusting,” Nico wrinkled her nose, and pushed in her chair.

       “Love you too babe byeee!” Victor called after Nico as she left the diner, the tiny brass bell on the glass door jingling merrily. Nico chuckled, and shook her head. Victor could be ridiculous at times, but that was why she loved him.

       As she waited at the bus stop for her ride to UCLA campus, her phone buzzed with a text from Victor.

 

        **Man of La Mancha:** Miss u

 

       Nico huffed, and typed in a reply.

 

        **Sadder Goth Adult:** I’ve literally only been gone five minutes

 

        **Man of La Mancha:** You know that’s like an eon for me, right? I’m wired  differently than you are

 

        **Sadder Goth Adult:** Right, bc you’re a robot

   

       It had taken a long time for Nico to realize and admit that she loved Victor. Not in _that_ way though. Victor was like a brother to her, and she confided all her problems and troubles in him. Because of her struggle and incapability to connect with her inner self, confront her feelings, Nico didn’t really do romantic relationships anymore. Her suppressed emotion left her cold and explosive, which was more often the main reason for her break-ups. Nico’s last boyfriend had called her the ‘ice witch’ during one of their many arguments, told her she was impossible to love and it was impossible for her to love anyone else unless she learned to love herself. _He was half-correct,_ Nico mused. Nico had Victor, Gert and Molly to support her through thick and thin. They loved her, and she loved them. Nico knew that now. But even after all these years, Nico wasn’t sure if she loved herself. Nico knew she was pretty, knew she looked fantastic in combat boots and a black leather jacket, and she liked that she had an inner fire within herself that refused to be put out. Was that enough to qualify as self-love?

 

        **Man of La Mancha:** Dios, I’m dying here. Mr. Sexy Teeth came over to ask where you were after he saw you leave

 

        **Man of La Mancha:** I figured you wouldn’t want him to know your         morning routine so he wouldn't stalk you or anything, so I panicked, and told him the only fair maiden he was looking for was right in front of him

 

        **Sadder Goth Adult:** He called me a fine maiden??? And I thought you were Mr. Sexy Teeth?

 

        **Man of La Mancha:** I was, but that title has been revoked and bestowed upon a more worthy man

 

        **Man of La Mancha:** He just grinned and walked away. Please kill me

 

       The bus pulled up to the curb, the brakes squealing and clamouring for oil or lubrication of any sort. It hissed a sigh as it rolled to a stop, and Nico quickly punched out a text before she boarded the vehicle.

 

        **Sadder Goth Adult:** That’s good! You still have a chance!

 

       Nico picked her way to the back of the bus, seating herself next to a window so she could continue to talk to Victor in peace.

 

        **Man of La Mancha:** Wtf you talking about

 

        **Sadder Goth Adult:** Don’t you remember that one guy you approached? What’s his face, Adam?

 

        **Man of La Mancha:** We do not talk about Adam Fapple

 

        **Sadder Goth Adult:** He practically tripped head over heels trying to deny he was gay. Even when we said we believed him, the dude kept going on and on, and we backed away reeaal slow. Then his buddy Popeye came after us to bust the nuts out of our hides. Remember that?

 

       The bus lurched to life, and several unmoored passengers staggered about. A bespectacled man seized the bar in front of Nico for support, and one of his free backpack straps smacked Nico in the nose. Nico rubbed the smarting area, and glared at the man, who was, of course, totally oblivious to the smol five-foot four Japanese woman.

 

        **Man of La Mancha:** Yeah, I bet his ‘head’ would have tripped over his heels

   

        **Sadder Goth Adult:** God Victor stop perving for a second would you??

 

        **Man of La Mancha:** Can’t. It’s programmed into my system

 

        **Sadder Goth Adult:** My point is Mr. Sexy Teeth(is that our official pet   name for this dude? Bc I don’t think I can handle typing that out   without wanting to puke every time) didn’t outright refute he was into   guys. He just smiled and walked away, right? Unless you’re leaving  something out, I’d say you still have a chance.  


        **Man of La Mancha:** But that anaconda tripping over his heels don’t want none unless my name’s Nico, chica chico

 

        **Sadder Goth Adult:** IF Mr. Guybrow IS into me, I’ll just tell him I’m not interested. Easy. And if he persists, it’s like Gert says: persistence in movies is  romantic, persistence in real life is called sexual harassment. I’ll kick his slick ass with my eleven years of Aikido training

 

        **Man of La Mancha:** I find it amusing that we just met this guy and we’re already thinking of ways to kick his ass. Or, in my case, slap his ass

 

        **Sadder Goth Adult:** It’s called women’s intuition. I try not to die by rape and murder

   

**Man of La Mancha:** And Mr. Guybrow is so not better than Mr. Sexy Teeth

 

**Man of La Mancha:** Shit sghit he’s coming

 

**Sadder Goth Adult:** ;)

 

**Man of La Mancha:** Stfu I mean it!! Mr. Guybrow is sauntering his         smouldering sack over here

 

**Sadder Goth Adult:** Go get em tiger <3

 

       Nico closed her messaging app, and opened Spotify. As she nestled earbuds into her ears, the opening notes of “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” by The Beatles plucked their way into Nico’s brain. She lost her Spotify Premium membership two weeks ago, and had felt it wasn’t worth it to subscribe again. Nico needed her Netflix and Hulu more than she did her music. Now, Spotify was just throwing random songs at her, and if the song was really bad, Nico skipped past it.

 

_Picture yourself on a boat in a river_

_With tangerine trees, and marmalade skies_

 

       Nico reached out to hit the skip button. The bus shrieked to a halt at the intersection, the red light glaring out at the cue of vehicles like some evil overlord, and Nico looked out the window to see another bus pull up beside her own.

       In the window directly across from hers, Nico could see a tall blonde woman seated in the bus. She too was gazing out the window, though at something in the distance. The woman appeared to be lost in thought, and Nico couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking of. She had the smallest smile as she listened to her own music with huge headphones, and she wore a loose fitting tie-dye shirt with intermingling colours of pink, blue, and yellow.

       Then, the woman turned her head to look at Nico.

       The first thing Nico noticed was the women’s wide, insanely blue eyes. They were like two mini oceans blending into clear skies, roiling restlessly in their sapphire gem prisms. The kind of oceans you could get lost in, full of mystery, danger, innocence, and life, the kind that compelled people to explore their wide expanses in search of adventure. Those blue eyes were framed by thick dark eyelashes, jagged feathers of cliffside rock that contained the wild waves of the sea, making the woman’s eyes pop even more.

       Upon seeing those, the shock caused Nico to inhale sharply, her own eyes widening to take in more of this perfect stranger. Nico could vaguely feel herself leaning closer to the glass.

       The second thing Nico noticed was that the woman was also extremely attractive. In addition to her cerulean doe-eyes, the blonde had flawless sunkissed skin that wasn’t uncommon in L.A.. Not the fake, baked potato kind that people got in tanning beds, but the sort accumulated naturally by the ultra-violet rays of the eternally summer sun. The tan that retained the sun’s warmth in the skin, radiating golden light on all those who came near. The woman also had a daintily accentuated nose, as if it had been masterfully carved out of marble, brush-stroke eyebrows, and petit pink lips that were parted to show a glimpse of teeth underneath.

       The third and final thing Nico noticed before her mind melted into mush, was that the woman seemed to be staring right back. It could be Nico’s imagination. But neither of them broke eye-contact once it was made. Whereas with Topher it was unpleasant and unnerving, with the woman Nico felt an invisible bridge begin to build between their opposing curious gazes, starting between where they met in the street outside the windows of their two buses, and Nico focused intently on it, as if the bridge could turn physical and Nico could communicate with the blonde telepathically.

       The woman removed her headphones, and Nico pulled out one of her own earbuds. But why? It wasn’t like she could talk to the woman with three feet and two sheets of plexiglass between them, and hear the woman reply over the roar of the bus engine. Still, the woman opened her mouth, words clearly on the tip of her tongue. Nico’s breath condensated on the window, and she moved to the left of the spot so she could better see the blonde.

       Nico started as the bus jerked into motion again, the traffic light turned green and beaming down on the cars. The other bus began to move as well, and both women’s pupils contracted in panic as it slowly started to make a right turn onto the perpendicular road.

       “Wait---,” Nico heard herself say, but it was too late. The blonde’s bus swung around the corner, and the woman’s face shrank into a sliver before the glare of the glass obscured her altogether. While Nico’s bus accelerated ahead, Nico desperately watched the other bus that contained the increasingly alluring stranger as long as possible, until the buildings cut off her sightline. She was left with her palm pressed to the window, mouth hanging open, and the music playing weakly from the one earbud that remained plugged in.

 

_Lucy in the sky with diamonds_

_Lucy in the sky with diamonds_

_Lucy in the sky with diamonds_

_Ohhhh_

  
       Nico flopped back in her seat, and gazed blankly out the front of the bus. There was something about that woman, that was for certain. And it intrigued Nico more than anything had for the past seven years. Whether she saw the blonde again, Nico didn’t know, but she did know she badly wanted to see the woman again for sure.

 


	2. Incident - Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly just about Chase and Karolina's relationship and background, and I really wanted to build on it, so that's why it took so long for me to finish!

       Karolina woke up to the sound of her alarm clock. The pleasant music from “Here Comes the Sun,” by The Beatles tinkled around her modest seven hundred square foot apartment, bouncing off the bare cream coloured walls, that, later today after she got home, she was going to fill with her multitude of paintings. Warm ambient sunlight filtered in through the sheer curtains that covered up the huge window set in the side of the room, the main reason why Karolina had picked the apartment in the first place. It was this one, or an other larger one for the same price. Karolina had always liked the sun ever since she was little, and she supposed that was why she loved L.A. so much.

       Karolina rolled onto her back, and stretched her arms out over her head before relaxing with a happy sigh. She relished the moment for a little while longer, her shut eyelids placating red screens, before pushing back the blankets and sitting up on her mattress. Karolina squinted at her surroundings, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the bright light, and as everything came into focus, so did the army of stacked boxes standing against the wall. The neat black printing that labeled the contents of each box glared out at Karolina like expecting eyes, waiting for her to unpack them. Karolina had been so tired after her flight in from New York, a red-eye she hadn’t been able to sleep on at all, she only pulled out her mattress, pillow, and blanket before conking out completely.

       The box with all the cooking equipment sat at the bottom of the pile, but luckily the china and cutlery was sitting by itself away from all the other boxes as Karolina had requested, along with her paintings. When she stumbled wearily through the door last night at three a.m., Karolina had only taken a glance at the kitchen area. There had been a stove, but the brief look was enough for Karolina to know the stove was no Cuisinart. Probably some weird, sketchy no-name brand. And what was she thinking anyway? She had no supplies to cook with. Karolina added getting groceries to her mental list of things to do, along with calling her mom, Leslie Dean, to confirm Karolina was safe and wasn’t dead, and...unpacking all these boxes. Boy, Karolina hated moving.

       The fake wooden floor was cold under the soles of Karolina’s bare feet as she shuffled to the bathroom. In the darkness, her hand blindly scrabbled around on the inner wall before finding the light switch and flicking it on. The three bulbs over the bathroom mirror hummed to life, and Karolina turned on the tap to wash her face. She sagged a little in relief when the water flowed out of it crystal clear, even though Karolina knew the apartment building was reputable. It was a left over habit from the last time she had stayed at in a cheap apartment to save money, after Karolina had tried to live independently without her mother’s help. The first time she turned on the tap there, a large mass of black slimy hair had been regurgitated from the drain, along with a belch of something rotting that Karolina would later learn was a dead rat. Karolina would never get the smell out of her olfactory system, even if she removed her nose.

       After splashing some water on her face to wash away the last of the drowsiness, Karolina studied her appearance in the mirror. She had tied up her hair in a bun, hoping that when she traveled it would just transform into a messy bun, but of course Karolina’s hair had other plans: her dirty blonde hair was a wild tumbleweed on top of her head, large hunks tugged out of the hair tie, probably as she slept.

       “Mmrgh,” Karolina grunted as she yanked the thoroughly entangled and ensnared hair elastic from her bird’s nest, and it came free along with a clump of blonde strands knotted around it. She chucked it onto the back rim of the sink to deal with later, and retrieved another one along with her comb from her purse. Luckily, Karolina’s long hair had always been relatively low maintenance---in a matter of minutes, the bristles were running smoothly through without a hitch. Karolina wove her hair into her trademark single braid before giving her teeth a quick brush with her travel toothbrush, and strode out of the bathroom.

       L.A. had been Karolina’s home growing up. Her parents moved there from New York when Karolina was eight, and purchased a house on a quiet cul-de-sac, on purpose, so she would be able to interact with the kids on the block. Leslie and Frank Dean believed in raising their child the traditional way, the way they had been raised, where all the kids played outside without any technology or video games of any sort. At least, that was what they had wanted. When they moved there, there were no other kids to play with, as they were all hunched over inside smashing away at the buttons to their video game controls. Poor Karolina had wandered all over the neighborhood alone with nothing to do, and she spent hours holed up in her room bored out of her mind. That was how Karolina had started painting. She found the old set of paints her grandfather used to own when he was alive, and ransacked the house for paper and possible blank canvases. Soon, there was no paper left to work with, so Karolina turned to the walls of her bedroom. She covered every inch of her walls with paintings, and when _they_ were full, she painted her ceiling.

       Karolina’s mom didn’t approve, and demanded Karolina remove the “graffiti” at once, but her more soft hearted father convinced Leslie to let Karolina continue to blossom her creativity.

_“After all, that is why we moved here in the first place, Leslie,” Frank said. “Look at her now, how happy she is. She’s clearly her grandfather’s granddaughter.”_

       Karolina used a box cutter to slice open the tape that sealed her box of clothes shut. Musty, dry air whoofed out of the container when she opened the flaps, and she lifted out the first shirt at the top of the pile, a tie-dye t-shirt she had gotten in her sixteenth summer. It was oversized and baggy back then, something meant to wear over her bikini when she hit the beach, but now it fit perfectly. Hungry for nostalgia, Karolina donned the t-shirt, along with a pair of ripped jean shorts. She bent over to scoop her phone off the ground, and shut off her alarm, which she had left playing as she went to the bathroom, and quickly checked the weather. Twenty-five degrees and climbing with the sun, along with cloudless skies for the entire day. How was that for a welcome home?

       Wrestling with Google Maps, Karolina picked the keys up off the silestone register, and shouldered her way through the door. She had some seed money to start her off from her old job, but if Karolina wanted to survive, she needed to find a new job. That was absolute first priority, before doing anything else. On the flight over, Karolina had scrolled through a bunch of job finding websites, and found a modest paying one as a barista at a coffee shop. She didn’t really qualify for much else, as she had forgone university post-high school graduation for her American expedition to New York, wanting to see what her parents had abandoned for the west coast, and a barista had been her first job in New York as well, before she found a higher paying one.

       The whole reason Karolina had returned to L.A., aside from seeing her best friend in the entire world and her own love of the city, was to continue to pursue her education. And, spring of last year, she had found out she had been accepted into the arts program at UCLA. Her friends had thrown her a going-away party, with lots of tears and the vegan cheeses Karolina liked, and she was going to miss every single one of them. School started on next week on Monday, so Karolina had arrived a week in advance to get herself all set up.

       Karolina’s stomach growled loudly, and she chewed at her bottom lip. Forget getting a job: Karolina needed to find something to eat, or she was going to die of starvation.

       The time on her phone said it was eight in the morning as she whizzed down in the apartment building elevator, and Karolina sighed. Looks like she’d have to hope the shops in the area had vegan options, because her schedule was already running fairly tight. Frequently checking her phone to make sure she had the right bus, Karolina made her way over to the bus stop. Once she was seated, Karolina put on her headphones, and played her favorite song of all time, “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” by The Beatles. She’d found the old Beatles record in her dad’s office, and repeated it non-stop until everyone in the house got sick of it, except Karolina.

       As the bus puttered along, Karolina gazed out at the blue sky horizon, smiling as a flock of seagulls soared overhead. There had been seagulls in New York too, but not nearly as many as here in L.A. It was interesting to think these birds existed on either sides of the continent, but would most likely never see both. Karolina had been lucky to visit the east and west coasts, and she couldn’t even fly.

       Her view of the sky was cut off as the bus pulled up to the intersection, right next to another bus, which looked extremely crowded. Karolina read the bus number, and winced. That would be her ride to UCLA in eight days or so. She was not looking forwards to being smothered alive by human bodies, especially in this heat, which made things moist and smelly.

       Karolina’s gaze drifted back down to earth, and she peeked out of her window and into the other bus beside her. A pale face stared back, and it took a second for Karolina to be able to see through the dark glass.

       Once she did, Karolina could not tear her eyes away.

       Huge brown eyes gaped at Karolina from underneath heavily eye-shadowed eyelids. Karolina wondered if the woman was a make-up artist, because her make-up looked like it had been applied by a professional. Smoke had been harnessed and tamed from a remote volcano, and brushed over the woman’s eyelids, emphasizing the smouldering bits of coal that were her irises, and sharpening them with strokes of black eyeliner. Even though her eyes were brown, Karolina could sense some hidden fire burning within them, brewing just below the surface, crackling and sizzling within their depths.

       The woman was asian, and her long black hair was pleated into two braids like midnight rivers over her shoulders, faintly resembling Wednesday from the _Addams Family._ She wore a black v-neck shirt, and a dark fuchsia bomber jacket over top that made her red lips pop out from her almost alabaster skin. Her face had the kind of delicate bone structure that exuded innocence and youth, heart-shaped with full cheeks, the kind you wanted to cup your hands around, kiss her forehead, and protect until the world ended. The woman had a cute little button nose, and Karolina couldn’t help but want to boop it with her finger, although Karolina was certain the woman wasn’t as docile as she looked, and that probably wouldn’t end well.

       As they continued to gawk at each other, Karolina could feel her corneas straining to hold the woman’s features in her field of vision, etching her face into Karolina’s memory. Suddenly, the bus felt even more claustrophobic than the one borne for UCLA, and Karolina couldn’t get enough air. Her breath heaved out of her nostrils, lungs expanding and contracting against her ribs that instantly felt like an imprisoning cage, rather than one to keep things out. She gasped for the warm, recycled oxygen that was shared with the nine, ten other passengers riding the bus with Karolina. Karolina’s heart beat like erratic peals of thunder, and she could somehow feel her pulse in her elbow. Her shoulders hunched forwards, her neck elongated towards the window glass, and, unbeknownst to Karolina, sweat began to bead along her hairline.

_Why isn’t she looking away?_ Karolina thought in her scatter-brained state. _And what is going on with me?_

       The woman’s supple lips parted slightly to show a slash of white teeth, and Karolina yanked her headphones from her head.

_Who are you?_

       Karolina inhaled a sharp breath to say the three words, but stopped herself. The woman wouldn’t be able to hear her. And as far as Karolina was concerned, for all she knew Karolina could be over-fantasizing the equally inquisitive stare the woman was giving Karolina in return. Her dreamer’s brain tended to do that.

       To her surprise, the woman took out one of her own white earbuds, but before Karolina could react the other bus launched into action. The woman blinked twice, startled, and Karolina’s bus pitched forwards as well. Both buses inched into the intersection, and Karolina was half-torn between banging on the window in infuriation, and jumping off the bus to run after the other one. It was Sophie’s Choice--- neither would keep the buses from driving away from each other until they were specks in the distance. Karolina was so frozen to the spot with indecisiveness she couldn’t have done either.

       Karolina’s bus began to turn onto the road, and right before Karolina couldn’t see her anymore, the woman smacked a hand to the window, the same confliction contorting her brow, and mouthed a single word. What? Wait?

       Wait. It was definitely wait.  

       Then she was gone. Whizzing off to wherever. It could very well be to UCLA; the woman did look the same age as Karolina. And it could very well not be. There were dozens of stops along the way to campus, and therefore dozens of places to get off and take other buses. Plus, L.A. was huge, with a population of four million people. Odds were, Karolina would never see the woman again.

       Karolina gazed blankly down at her blurry, warped reflection in the metal band of her headphones, and the frown on her face made her look like a demonic clown. Best she get over it. Tucking her hair behind her ears, Karolina let the headphones clamp down over her head again, just in time for the last of Lucy in the Sky to finish. She sighed in the pause at the end of the song, and watched some edgy teen zip past on his edgily painted skateboard, without a helmet to be extra extra. Karolina tried to direct her thoughts to going through possible scenarios for her job interview, but she kept wandering back to the more tantalizing daydream.

       Who was that woman? Was she a student at UCLA? Did she seem like a diligent student, the kind that got into such a prestigious institute? And...oh my...would Karolina run into her at the university? What was she studying there? Would she be in Karolina’s class? She seemed like an artsy person. Wait, that made no sense if she was, because class didn’t start until a week from now. _The woman could have another course,_ Karolina supposed. Or she could live in that direction. But, most importantly, was she into gir---

       “Ms. Dean?”

       Karolina blinked, and sniffed in alarm. She was sitting inside someone’s office, in a very uncomfortable chair. In front of her sat a woman in her late thirties or forties, light pockmarks scarring her cheeks, and silver strands winding through her hair that was tied up in a tight bun. A quick glance at the name-tag lying on her desk, and Karolina had her name: “A. Lockwood.”

       Dang it. She was at her job interview, wasn’t she? And Karolina had no idea how long she had been there.

       “Sorry!” Karolina snapped upright. “I had less than five hours of sleep last night. Please, if you don’t mind, could you repeat the question?”

       Ms. Lockwood smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I understand. I’ve had to pull a couple of all-nighters myself. What do you have that makes you the right choice for this job?”

       “Um…” The gears in Karolina’s head grinded to life, and as they warmed up the automatic responses Karolina had prepared and practiced countless times sprung from her lips.

       After that, time flew by like dust in the wind, and before she knew it Karolina was getting up from her chair to shake Ms. Lockwood’s hand.

       “Thank you for coming, Karolina. You will hear back from us by Wednesday this week. For now, I bid you farewell.”

       “Thank you,” said Karolina, flashing a grin. She exited the office, and once she was out of the building, she rolled back her shoulders, causing her spine to emit several popping noises. Karolina wondered if the uncomfortable chair was deliberate, to make the job candidates more on the edge of their seat--- no pun intended.

       Karolina pulled her phone out, and selected the first person on her contact list.

 

**Lina Bean:** I’m done! Come and get me

 

       A scant minute elapsed before Karolina got a reply:

 

**Hella Genius:** ON MY WAY

 

       Karolina’s heart swelled with excitement. Her best friend in the entire universe, who she had not physically talked to face-to-face in over three years, was at last coming. When he got here, Karolina was going to fly into his arms and squeeze him in a huge hug.

       Around right after Karolina finished re-decorating her room, she met one of the other children in the cul-de-sac, who later became her best friend.

_She was on her way to Sunday school when a glint of silver caught her eye. Karolina turned to see a boy about her age hunched over a table on the front lawn of a grey-blue house, working on some sort of contraption. His grease mark-streaked forehead was corrugated in concentration, his dark brown eyes fixated on his work, and his honey brown hair glowed golden in the semi-tropical sun. A NASA pen was tucked behind his left ear, and he was wearing cargo shorts, a t-shirt, and a blue flannel that flapped in the warm southwesterly breeze. Blueprints to what Karolina guessed was the thing he was working on were pinned down with stones from the ground, and a number of blackened tools were scattered around the table top._

_The boy did not notice nor look up as Karolina approached, so consumed was he by what he was doing._

_“Um, hi,” greeted Karolina shyly._

_Immediately after Karolina spoke, the boy shoved the stones off the blueprints, seized the sheets, and stuffed them down the front of his shirt. The contraption he snatched and covered like a baby bird in his hands, before he glared up at Karolina(she was taller than him back then)._

_“Who are you?” the boy demanded harshly, taking a few steps back._

_“I’m Karolina Dean,” Karolina introduced herself, and held out her hand in a peace offering. “I moved here two weeks ago.”_

_The boy stared at Karolina’s hand like it was an alien._

_“Oh.”_

_“Yeah, you wouldn’t have seen me much, I guess. I tried to look for everyone on my first day here, but I couldn’t find anybody. I just assumed there were no other kids.”_

_Slowly, the boy inched closer to Karolina, eyes still on her outstretched hand. “So you’re the Deans. My parents told me about you. The construction crew made a lot of noise fixing up your house, you know. My dad got lousy sleep.”_

_“Did they? I’m sorry,” Karolina apologized, hoping that her attempt at a friendship hadn’t already been ruined before she got here. “Is that why he...gave you that?”_

_Karolina pointed to the purpling bruise across the boy’s freckled cheek. The boy made a noise, and turned away, clamping a hand to the spot._

_“N...no…” he grunted. “That...was from...baseball. A guy on the other team hit me with the bat because he was mad I made a home run.”_

_It was obvious the boy was lying, even to a eight year old girl. But something in Karolina’s gut told her not to prod for the truth, and she instead let her arm drop to her side, and changed the subject._

_“Whatcha’ making?” Karolina asked, nodding towards the metal thing in the boy’s grasp._

_The boy flinched, as if remembering he still carried it in his hands, and nestled his gizmo further behind him. An empty plastic Walmart bag rustled across the deserted street, and got caught in someone’s hedge._

_“It’s top secret,” he stated._

_For a moment, Karolina just stood there and blinked. Then, her face broke out in a grin._

_“Okay. I’ll see you around then,” Karolina pivoted to the left, and began to continue down the road._

_When she had gotten around five steps away, the boy called out from behind her._

_“Wait!”_

_Karolina glanced over her shoulder. The boy had come out from behind his table, brandishing his contraption in his hand._

_“I’ll show you!”_

_While Karolina picked her way back, a content smirk on her face, the boy took the blueprints back out of his shirt, and smoothed them out on the table again._

_“I call this the Handyman 5000,” said the boy, setting his invention down in the open. Karolina could now see it resembled a small humanoid robot, complete with comically huge antennae and red blinker lights for eyes._

_“What does it do?” Karolina inquired curiously, peering down at the half-assembled robot._

_The boy looked at Karolina as if she had just told him she didn’t know what the sky was._

_“What does it do? What does it do?! I’ll tell you what it can do!”_

_Startled by the boy’s sudden outburst, Karolina let the boy nudge her aside so he could explain._

_“This is just the model version of him, of course,” the boy said, “when I get older, and my dad lets me get access to all the adult tools, I’ll build him full scale. But when he’s finished, he’ll be able to cook, clean, tend to the garden, play video games with me, play music, do my homework and chores, assist my dad, defend the house, and best of all, help my mom.”_

_“Wow,” remarked Karolina, impressed. “That does sound pretty great.”_

_“Thanks,” said the boy, blushing from the compliment. “You too. I mean--- yeah, you’re great. And pretty. Wait, no---”_

_Karolina giggled, and the boy nervously chuckled along._

_“Thank you. And for the record, I think you’re also pretty great.”_

_“Huh?”_

_“You’re very kind and thoughtful, making something to help out your mom and dad. Most of the boys I’ve met just want to hit and break things, but you’re different. And you must be smart too, if you can build a robot.”_

_“Well...I guess,” the boy said, shrugging sheepishly. “But my dad always says I’m stupid though. That I won’t live up to the Stein name. When he’s drunk a lot of bourbon, he even tells me I’m a failure.”_

_Karolina’s eyes darkened, and she grabbed the boy by both of his shoulders._

_“Don’t_ ever _listen to him,” she growled, searching his eyes with her own. “Adults don’t know anything. They think they know what’s best for us, but in the end we just become them. Do you want to become like your dad?”_

_The boy frantically shook his head, and Karolina released him, satisfied._

_“I’m Chase Stein,” he said, holding out his hand. When he saw it was covered in oil from his robot, he started to retract it, but Karolina took hold of it before he could._

_“Pleased to meet you, Chase,” Karolina said, shaking Chase’s hand, and Chase beamed._

Chase and Karolina had been thick as thieves throughout elementary, middle, and high school. When Chase was sixteen and Karolina was fifteen, together they confronted Chase's abusive father, Victor Stein. Chase told him he didn't care if it meant losing his inheritance from the multi-millionaire. All he wanted was for his father to tell him once he was proud of Chase, and if Victor wasn't willing to accept Chase as he was, Chase would not stand for it any longer. It had ended just as well as they thought it would, and Chase moved in with Karolina's family for a couple months, until Chase's mother, Janet Stein, finally divorced Victor, and they got a place of their own. Even though Chase had Karolina to help him through it all, two years were not enough to remove the damage from growing up with an abusive father, and Karolina knew the scars would never completely heal. Chase had stayed behind in L.A. while Karolina headed out to New York post-high school graduation, wanting to explore the place her parents left behind for the west coast. Now that she was back, she was eagerly anticipating her reunion with her long-time friend. Sure, they had kept in contact over Skype, phone calls, and many late nights of messaging, but it wasn’t quite the same.

       **Hella Genius:** Tf there’s no parking anywhere in this godforsaken city

 

       **Hella Genius:** Ironic, considering it’s supposed to be Los Angeles, The Angels

 

       **Lina Bean:** Chase, concentrate on your driving. Last thing we need is for you to die before I even get to see you

 

       **Hella Genius:** Relax, miss bossy pants. I’m at a red light

 

       **Lina Bean:** That’s illegal, genius

 

       **Hella Genius:** shit

 

     

       Karolina's stomach clenched painfully, and she grimaced. Right. Food. Karolina spun around, scanning the building facades for restaurants. There was a McDonald's down the road, an In-N-Out Burger, and one that, after a second look, Karolina was convinced was actually a kid’s shoe store. No vegan options. Maybe she could order a salad at the McDonald’s? But wasn’t there cream in the sauce?

   

       **Lina Bean:** you’re gonna have to hold up for a bit once you get here. I gotta find something to eat

 

       **Hella Genius:** Don’t worry, I got you. I’ve one of those lentil soups with indian spices you like

 

       **Lina Bean:** Did I mention I love you

 

       **Hella Genius:** Aw, I love me too

 

       **Lina Bean:** Now get back to driving

 

       **Hella Genius:** Don’t need to. I’m here

 

       Karolina looked up from the screen of her phone, and was met by the grinning face of Chase Stein. He looked almost the same as Karolina had last seen him, aside from a few more freckles, and the rough stubble that was covering his upper lip and chin. Chase had the same idea as Karolina--- he was also wearing a shirt from when they were kids, the one with the sassy brown and blue dinosaur on it. There was an air of...should Karolina dare say it... _wisdom_ around this twenty-two year old Chase, that he had gained while Karolina was away. He didn’t appear much older, but he felt older.

       “ _Chase!!_ ” Karolina flung herself at her best friend with a jubilant squeal, and locked him in a vise-like grip with her arms. Once he was restrained, Karolina began to hop up and down, unable to contain her delight.

       “Woah, careful there,” Chase cautioned, though there was a playful undertone to his voice. He was glad to see Karolina again after all this time as well. “There’s a lid on your soup, but I don’t think it’s watertight.”

       A paper bag smacked against Karolina’s back as Chase hugged her in return. Chase’s scent had changed, and there was only one way to describe it, though totally cliche: Chase had stopped smelling like a boy, and more like a man. Karolina wrinkled her nose even as she thought it. Gone was that unwashed body smell, that stale dried sweet sweat of youth, replaced by something more musky and more mature. Like aged wine. Karolina cringed again, and Chase took that as a cue to release her.

“Wow, did you grow?” Chase teased Karolina when they were standing apart. Karolina grinned and ruffled Chase’s hair in return, old habits rushing back to them like fresh water over a dried river bed. Ever since Chase outgrew Karolina at the age of sixteen, he had teased Karolina over the two extra inches he held above her, knowing full well she had stopped growing when she was fifteen. 

“But seriously. I don’t know what I was expecting, but you look  _ different, _ ” Chase scanned Karolina head to toe, “I didn’t see it before through the computer cameras, but now that you’re actually here…” Something unreadable passed over Chase’s face.

“You look different too,” Karolina reached out and rubbed her fingers over Chase’s new stubble, the sound and texture like sandpaper. “When did you decide to grow a  _ beard,  _ Tom Cruise?”

“I do  _ not  _ look like Tom Cruise,” Chase rejected, grabbing at his chin.

“Then what’s this?” Karolina swatted at the pointy tip of Chase’s elaborately combed hair, now mussed from Karolina’s affections, and it sprung spryly back into position. “Classic Tom Cruise hairstyle.”

“You don’t like?” 

“Actually, I think it’s kinda cute,” Karolina commented, and Chase’s cheeks turned a bright pink. “When did you get it? We haven’t Skyped for over six months.”

“Early November,” Chase petted his ‘do back into submission, “I tried to grow a mustache for Movember, but you know my, very masculine, struggles with growing body hair. So I got the cut so no one would notice my lack of lip hair.”

“How was your flight over?” Chase asked as they began to walk.

“The air was super dry, and someone kept passing gas. I had to turn on the air nozzle fan, which made me cold as well. Then, during the meal time the person in front of me kept their chair reclined, so I had to squash my head into the back of their chair to get food into my mouth.”

       “Yeesh. Was there anything good about your flight?” 

       “Um. They had  _ Footloose _ ?”  

       “Isn’t that about those penguins that dance?” Across the street, the notes from a guitar busker drifted towards Karolina, making her wish she had brought her own with her. The instrument was put to better use in the hands of Sarah, the budding musician of Karolina’s NYC friend group, who was thrilled to receive the guitar. 

       “That's _Happy Feet_ , you uncultured swine. ” 

       “Same thing. They're both movies about dancing with feet in their title.  Are you still a crunchy hippie then?”

       “As ever. Though I’ve weakened a little to allow some chocolate into my life. One of my boyfriends in New York corrupted me with a bar of Toblerone. You know how I hate things going to waste, and no one at the office would take it off of me.”

       “Woah, woah, woah, hold up,” Chase stopped walking, and gaped at Karolina in shock. “ _ Boyfriends?  _ As in plural? You’ve had a boyfriend, and you didn’t think to tell me about it?”

       “Well...yeah,” Karolina frowned at Chase, confused, and slightly alarmed at his violent reaction. “I’ve had tons of boyfriends before. Brandon, Lucas, Stu. You know those guys.”

       “ _ What?! _ ”

       “Yeah! Don’t you remember? We used to hang out back when we…” Several new wrinkles popped out on Chase’s forehead, and it clicked in Karolina’s mind.

       “ _ Ohhh _ …” Karolina looked away, and shook her head vehemently, chuckling. “ _ Boyfriends.  _ Chase, I didn’t mean boyfriends as in lovers, I meant boyfriends as in  _ boy friends. _ Guys I hung out with as friends.”

       Chase held her gaze for a moment after she spoke, searching her eyes, before sagging in relief and exhaling loudly. “Oh my god, Kar. You really had me there. When normal human beings talk about their male friends, they call them guy friends, or dude friends. I don’t know. Just not boyfriends. Boyfriends are like...”

       “Too bad I’m not from planet Earth, then,” Karolina carried on walking, tucking her hands into her jean short pockets. “What’s up with you, anyways? You know I’ve never been the boyfriend type.”

       “You could have changed,” supplied Chase, “decided to branch out a little.”

       “ _ I _ decided I’d wait for that someone special,” said Karolina, smiling as they passed by a couple sharing a single chocolate ice cream. “I know that’s the exact reason why people die single, but I can’t imagine myself with anyone else. I’m a dreamer and a hopeful, so if love does find me, let it find me. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t. I’m back home in L.A., I have the sun on my skin, and the wind in my hair, friends and family, and that’s all I need.”

       As she finished saying the last three words of her sentence, an image of the mysterious woman’s face on the bus flashed across Karolina’s mind, spreading rapidly like an ink blot on paper, and interrupted her thought process. The woman’s intense gaze, drawing Karolina in like a moth to a lamp. The way Karolina’s skin had responded with pulsating warmth. Karolina had felt a strong connection, there was no denying it. Heck, strong was an understatement. Karolina wondered if that was what soul mates felt like when they saw each other for the first time. If there were such things as soul mates. And if there were  _ gay _ soul mates, for that matter.

       Karolina had known she was gay since she was fourteen, when kissing one of the hottest football players during a spin-the-bottle game felt like making out with two limp moist salamis, and kissing one of the hottest cheerleaders felt like warm solar energy and glittering sparkles were lighting up every inch of her body with multi-colored light. After that, her inner gayness had just sort of laid low, seeing how the other ‘out’ kids were treated poorly at Atlas Academy, and since her exterior didn’t conform to the stereotypical lesbian standards--- short pixie cut, extremely athletic, competitive, masculine, flannels and combat boots---, Karolina got away with it. Everyone just assumed she and Chase were dating, and they had went with it.

       Only a handful of people knew Karolina was gay: her mom and dad, and a close group of friends in NYC. Chase had no idea. Karolina had still been coming to terms with her sexuality back then, and she had almost come out in front of Chase by accident when she rejected a male classmate’s invitation to prom. While in NYC, coming out to Chase had been the furthest from her mind, but now that she was here, Karolina began to reconsider whether she should. On one hand, Chase was Karolina’s literal B.F.F. she would die for and trust with her life. On the other hand, Karolina didn’t know whether Chase was accepting of the LGBTQ+ community. Karolina had walked in on Chase once after a football game, when all the guys were leaving the locker room. They were laughing about something, Karolina forgot what about since what came next totally overpowered everything.

_        “Oh my god, that’s so gay!” _

_        It was Chase’s voice. Undeniably. The same voice Karolina had been hearing for seven years, almost 24/7. The same voice that comforted her when Eiffel stuck chewing gum all over Karolina’s art project. Karolina threw herself behind the wall just as they came around the corner, and sure enough. She searched his face for any sort of remorse or regret from saying that, but there was none. Just Chase’s charismatic smile.  _

       If one of the other football jocks had said it, Karolina wouldn’t really have cared. But since it was Chase,  _ Chase,  _ and this had occurred a month after the spin-the-bottle when Karolina was still feeling vulnerable and sensitive, it felt like someone had ripped a rib out of her chest. That had pretty much scared Karolina into not saying anything at all about her newly discovered sexuality to Chase. Today, Karolina knew Chase had been young back then, and uneducated in the proper ways to speak about the LGBTQ+. ‘Gay’ was just another word kids threw around like an insult. Whether he had changed or not, was the real question.

       Even more so: was she willing to take the risk of losing her best friend, should he choose not to accept her?

       “That’s my sage-like ‘Lina,” Chase hugged her to his side, back to his laid-back self. When he let her go, Chase thrust the paper bag into Karolina’s hands. “Now eat your soup. You know I don’t like you going hungry, and I know with your insane metabolism you must be starving by now without breakfast. Plus, I don’t want it to spill over in the Frog. I just refurbished the insides last week.”

       “You kept the Frog? After all these years?!” Karolina asked in disbelief.

       “I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of him. He’s saved my student loan-debted ass multiple times.”

       The “Frog” was Chase’s first car, bestowed upon Chase on his sixteenth birthday by his father. Victor was afraid Chase would bang the car up if he had bought an expensive one, which the Steins could certainly afford. Chase was so excited when he saw the frog-green beat up Jeep Wrangler--- hence the name---, he stayed up all night studying so he could go in and get his learner’s license the next day. Chase barely passed the test, and Matrix-dodged a fail in his driver’s, though Karolina was sure Mr. Stein’s wallet had something to do with it. Karolina and Chase had spent numerous hours in the car, roaring up the highway back and forth from Long Beach, and almost dying multiple times due to Chase’s horrendous driving. He even gave  _ himself  _ motion sickness once. Karolina had a good laugh at that. 

       The car contained so many happy memories in it it was basically a physical representation of Karolina and Chase’s teenage years. As they approached the abnormally green car, Karolina felt a powerful surge of nostalgia come over her as she took in all the familiar details of the vehicle, making her nose sting and throat tighten, and it only increased as Chase opened the passenger side door to let her inside.

       “My lady,” Chase sketched a bow as he held the door, and Karolina pressed a hand to her chest, mock-flattered. 

       “Why, how gallant,” Karolina giggled, and hopped in. When Chase shut the door behind her, Karolina was enveloped with the smell of new car, the days of spilled french fries, sunscreen, and soaked beach shorts written over with the pristine leather seats. However, the bright pink stain on the ceiling above Karolina was still there, from the time she opened a extremely shaken cherry soda and it erupted all over, and the mini dice with rainbow dots, that Chase won at a carnival game after spending what had to be five times the dice’s actual worth, were still hanging from the rear-view mirror. 

       The Frog bobbed gently as Chase got in and shut the door behind him, and Karolina felt an involuntary spike of dread as the engine sputtered on. After three, four years, Karolina’s body still anticipated the rollercoaster of a ride that was Chase’s driving. She knew Chase’s skills had most likely improved by now but---

       “H-ohmygod,” Karolina seized the panic bar as Chase wheeled the Frog out of the parking spot and onto the road, the tires squealing against the pavement. Behind them, somebody laid down onto their horn angrily, and Karolina squeezed her eyes shut in fear, hoping to high heaven that she would not die today, because then her mom would follow her to the afterlife, and kill her again. 

       “Aha, just kidding,” Chase sniggered, and Karolina scowled at him. The scent of Indian spices wafted up from the paper bag into Karolina’s nose, and she peeked inside.

       “I think you spilled the soup.”

       “Shit.”

       “Where are we headed?” Karolina closed up the bag mouth, deeming the soup a lost cause to eat in a moving vehicle. 

       Chase met Karolina’s eyes in the rear-view mirror, and the corners of his lips turned up in his familiar mischievous smirk. 

       “You know where.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, suggestions, tips? Anything helps, even if it's a few spelling or grammar errors. I'm always looking for things to strengthen my writing, so don't be afraid to drop some constructive criticism. 
> 
> Want me to continue to compose? Drop some kudos <3 They take a second for you, but they're my fuel to continue writing. Also, thank you to everyone who's given me support so far! I really appreciate it!
> 
> Also: does anyone know how to indent on here?? I've had to spam the space bar to keep mine, because whenever I copy and paste from Google Docs the formatting gets lost. Thanks!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, suggestions, and tips? :) Please don't be too harsh, this is my first work after all
> 
> Want me to continue to compose? Drop some kudos <3


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